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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25464268">unwanted correspondence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurcras/pseuds/aurcras'>aurcras</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Humor, Katara is having fun, Romance, jealous!zuko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:42:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25464268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurcras/pseuds/aurcras</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>it's a love letter, and he's not jealous. not at all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katara/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>182</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>unwanted correspondence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello! this is my first dip into the zutara fandom after binging on so many fanfics days on end. i'm quite nervous about posting this, and i hope i've done justice to the characters, especially zuko. this is just some silly fluff that i hope you all enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s nothing short of hideous, the way it plants itself on the center of his desk, demanding the attention of those unfortunate enough to lay eyes upon it. The missive is adorned with one too many obnoxious hearts and faint imprints of lips, and the more he looks at it, the more he wants to incinerate it on the spot. The fact that the block letters have left such deep impressions on the paper, each word making the sheer effort and sincerity of the writer painfully clear, doesn’t make it any better.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright,” Zuko finally says after spending a few moments deliberating whether to settle on fury or extreme irritation as his final reaction to the badly written poetry, “We’re going on vacation to Ember Island next Sunday.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Fire Lady raises an amused eyebrow, peering down at the missive that has become their hot topic of the evening. She reaches out to gently slide the letter closer to her with her fingers, ignoring the way his brows twitch at the action. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh?” She looks up at him, still holding onto the letter, “So it takes a lovely piece of poetry for the workaholic Fire Lord to finally go on vacation? Maybe I should put in a word for a possible poetry contest at the next council meeting.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zuko scowls. “This isn’t funny Katara,” he huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m serious.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Katara’s lips curve upward slightly, “I never said you weren’t, but so am I.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She carefully picks up the letter, cradling it in her arms like it were a precious treasure. “Do you think a haiku competition would inspire more pieces like this one? It really speaks to me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knows she’s only teasing, but he falls for it anyway, giving her a look. <em>That</em> look, the very same one he’d directed toward his Uncle plenty of times when he sang praises of the beauty that was tea. “That ‘lovely piece’ you talk of is a love letter, Katara.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zuko tries really hard not to glare holes into the letter pressed against her chest, but the way she waves it around as though taunting him makes it ten times more difficult. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m aware.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyes narrow. “It’s a <em>love</em> letter, from someone unknown. Someone who didn’t even bother signing off his name—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That defeats the purpose of a secret admirer, Zuko,” she admonishes, her husband’s temper beginning to escalate. He doesn’t notice the way her eyes are twinkling, or the way a teasing smile plays on her lips, too distracted by the garbage in her hands to notice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“—and delivered this <em>asinine</em> thing to the royal palace. Do you really not see a problem with this?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wants to throw his hands up in the air, but keeps them to his sides, clenching the material of his robes. Zuko swears by his long earned honour that his temper has gotten better over the years, but sometimes things like <em>these</em>, as trivial as it seemed, just set him off. And Katara, as lovely as she may be, thrived on moments like these, knowing the right buttons to push to get a rise out of him. She says its entertaining, but he fails to see how.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Katara taps her chin for a few moments, Zuko eyeing his wife’s reaction critically. “Not really. I’ve had love letters written to me before, this isn’t anything different. Remember those letters you used to send me when I was still at the Southern Water Tribe?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His cheeks turn pink at the memory, a protest escaping his lips. “That’s different!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do enlighten me as to how, Zuko.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She raises a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk playing on her lips, and he scowls. He can’t believe she’d just compared his high quality, well written, <em>and</em> sincere letters to that poor excuse of a love letter she’d stubbornly kept a hold on. His letters had <em>class</em>, and he needn’t resort to such cliche phrases comparing his wife’s eyes to ‘rainbows’ or how she filled his mind with a ‘mist’, the insertion of a lame waterbending reference making him snort the first time he’d read it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Katara,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, “<em>My</em> letters were an affirmation of my feelings for you—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So is this.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He glares at her, pretending that she hadn’t just said that, and continues, “<em>And</em> they were much better written!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zuko motions to the garbage in her hold, huffing. “Meanwhile this… this <em>criminal</em> has also sent you a variety of things over the past few days. Wilting bouquets of flowers, cheap-looking jewelry which I can get at much better quality for you myself, silk scarves that have no use in the Fire Nation, fire gummies—“</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Katara raises a brow, “Where are they now?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He almost smirks at the question, lifting his chin proudly. “Disposed of. All of them,” he replies calmly, in a way that tells her he’d sliced them up with his sharpened Dao swords and burned them to ashes, before finally directing one of his staff to dispose of them.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Seeing the incredulous look on her face, he soldiers on. “It was for our safety. I personally think this guy is a potential threat, and I don’t feel safe knowing there is someone out there lurking outside our palace, waiting for the right moment to—“</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t feel <em>safe</em>,” Katara snorts, cutting him off. She’s placed the letter back down, an action that hasn’t gone unnoticed as he sports a look of glee. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“<em>You</em>, the Fire Lord, master firebender and teacher to the Avatar, living in a palace with hundreds of guards at your disposal, don’t feel safe. Sure, I <em>totally</em> believe you.” The sarcasm isn’t lost on him as she offers him a look of incredulity, and he looks away for a moment, having the decency to look embarrassed.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Fine,” he concedes, letting out a sigh. “Maybe it’s not that I don’t feel safe, but I just don’t want this unidentified criminal,” he ignores her snort, “to continue sending you letters and gifts like this. It’s annoying to see these objects left at our chamber’s doorstep every time I return to have some quality time with you. Is that so wrong?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Zuko raises a brow, crossing his arms as he awaits her response. He’s hoping for her eyes to soften at his care, perhaps a small coo as she wraps her arms around him and agrees with the disposal of this garbage, but what he gets instead leaves him severely disappointed. Katara has the gall to <em>laugh</em> at him, the sound which he usually finds melodious, only making him scowl and huffing in displeasure. She smirks, taking a few steps closer to him.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know, is it so wrong to admit that what you’re experiencing is a bad dose of jealousy, Zuko?</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He blinks, taken aback by the incredulous allegation, and opens his mouth to retort.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not—“ He starts, frowning at her ever-growing smirk, “I’m not—“</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He clenches his fists. “I’m just—“</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Jealous?” She finishes, peering up at him with a triumphant smirk. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He scowls, hating how she’s won this round. “Fine, so maybe I <em>am</em> just a little jealous. Happy now?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She laughs again, reaching over to peck his cheek. Zuko’s cheek tingles at the contact, and he tries not to look too pleased with the affection as he keeps his scowl in place. “Was that so hard?"</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His eyes narrow at her.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You—“</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Katara simply waves him off, shaking her head. “Don’t have to worry about the letters and gifts. I know who sent them.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Zuko blinks, brows knitting together in surprise.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You do?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She nods. “You know them quite well, actually.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">There’s a hint of a smile on her lips, and his eyes narrow even further. A list of names runs through his head frantically, trying to piece together who this someone really is. Admiration for his wife was nothing new to him, even the presence of suitors, despite the fact that it was clear she only had eyes for one person, was a common occurrence. But an admirer as persistent with their gift-giving like this one was unfamiliar territory. It unnerved him. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">A thought then strikes him, “Who? It can’t be Aang—“</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Well…” she trails off, and he gasps almost comically, reaching out to grasp her shoulders. Katara eyes him in amusement as he questions her seriously.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It’s Aang?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Not exactly.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His brows furrow, not liking that answer either. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Explain.”<br/></span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She shrugs, reaching up to gently tap the hands on her shoulders. “Let’s just say that you spoil this person way too often that even Aang agrees.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The exact moment the dots all connect is when his grip on her slackens, his brows reaching considerable heights on his face as he blinks at her, eyes so wide she’s almost afraid they’ll pop out of their sockets.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You’re joking.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Katara smiles, pecking his cheek again. “Believe what you want Zuko, but I’m going to take a nice bath. If you want to join me, you know where to find me,” she flashes him an inviting smile, turning on her heel with a considerable sway to her hips as she walks away.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">A few miles away, sitting atop of Appa’s saddle, is a lone boy, who erupts into a fit of violent sneezes. The ten-year-old Kuzon wipes his nose on his sash, a small smile playing on his lips as he jots down the next line of the haiku he’s working on. Lady Katara would love it, he believes, and with the fact that he’s sneezing so much, maybe she’d offer to relieve his sinuses. She’s very kind like that, and he’d have no problem keeping her to himself. No one would suspect a thing.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His father would be so proud, he grins to himself.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">As he makes his way to join Katara in the bathroom, Zuko decides that he needs to have a very urgent talk with the Avatar as soon as possible. There will be no more spoiling in the foreseeable future, he’d make sure of it.</span>
</p>
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